


love you, bye

by maketea



Series: the ways you said i love you [9]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23966365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maketea/pseuds/maketea
Summary: marinette’s not so good at saying the right thing when she’s nervous — and, as she believed, coming face-to-face with her roommate after kissing him the night before was a fair enough reason to be nervous.(prompt 9 = while baking chocolate chip cookies)
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: the ways you said i love you [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667194
Comments: 44
Kudos: 379





	love you, bye

"If you ask me, you ought to make him your boyfriend."

"Mhm?"

"He's so charming, _Marinetta_ . If _I_ was your age…"

"You'd be head over heels. You said that already, Grandma."

"I'm sorry, my little fairy, but how many other boys your age are like him anymore?"

Marinette placed the spoon back into the cookie batter, left her phone on speaker beside the bowl, and carried the baking tray up to the oven. "Not many."

" _And_ you think he's a great roommate. _Husband material_ , Marinette."

The tray dropped into the oven rack with a bang. Her mental rehearsals of _love you, bye_ (prepared for her to leap at the chance to cut this particular conversation short) screeched to a halt.

"I-isn't it a little too soon to be thinking about _husband material_?"

"It's never too soon to know what you want, sweetie. Ah, let me put you on hold for a second, your father is calling me."

Marinette closed the oven door and sighed.

"Who's husband material?"

_"Gah!"_

Marinette whipped around, oven-mittened hands up in front of her. Adrien stood in the kitchen doorway, jacket on, keys jangling in his pocket while he fiddled with them, smiling.

She smiled back, hoping the flour on her cheeks would keep him from seeing her blush.

"Well," she said, and slipped off the oven mitts. "You."

His hand faltered on the doorframe. "Me?"

Marinette nodded. "You made quite an impression on Grandma last night."

"After I pulled her chair back for her?"

"Pfft. Maybe."

"Oh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess chivalry's not dead."

Marinette couldn't help it — she laughed. It was the first time she did anything other than bury her face in her hands when remembering last night.

The evening itself went smoothly. A birthday dinner at a beautiful restaurant with her family and Adrien and a pair of six-inch heels could have gone wrong in many ways (most of them having to do with her breaking an ankle) but the universe seemed to have given Marinette its own little birthday wish by keeping disaster far away.

Well, until she decided to kiss Adrien.

The memory sent heat barreling up to her face, so much so she turned her head away from the window so the daylight wouldn't expose her thoughts.

Her heels dangling off her fingers. Her hand around the arm Adrien proffered her. The concrete digging into her feet through her stockings while she rose to her toes and pressed her mouth to his and his hands clutching her to his chest while he _kissed back_.

If he asked her why she did it, she wouldn't be able to answer. Marinette wouldn't for the life of her be able to formulate an explanation that did proper justice to the way her heart raced when she saw him laugh under the lamppost while he helped her back to their apartment because of her sore feet.

Which was why they were ignoring it.

"Chivalry was never dead," she said. "At least not from you."

A soft silence settled between them.

Then Adrien came towards her.

Marinette swallowed hard. Her grasp on the oven mitts grew unbearably tight as he neared. Perhaps he would kiss her again — what an optimistic train of thought! If he did she would have to let go of the oven mitts. Putting them behind her on the counter would be too much of a hassle, and the table was two steps too far — perhaps she could drop them to the ground and fling her arms around him like those actresses did, in those scenes where a piano piece crescendoed into _forte_ and the camera panned around the embracing couple—

Adrien stopped in front of her.

They looked at each other, breaths held.

Then, he reached over to the counter. Marinette stayed stock still.

"Uh," he said intelligently, "snack. Before I go."

He hesitated, then picked an apple out of the fruit bowl behind her.

Marinette tried not to look too disappointed. 

So much for a crescendo.

But then the fist with the apple took a detour before returning to his person. Adrien lifted it up to her cheek, and, taking in a deep breath (which she probably wasn't meant to hear), brushed it with the back of his knuckles.

Marinette could smell the apple's ripeness, the sweetness enclosed in the hand touching her face.

Adrien exhaled deeply. "Flour."

Marinette nodded. "Y-yep."

He nodded, too. "Yeah."

Their eyes lingered on one another for a moment longer, before Adrien staggered back. Marinette slumped against the counter, the tension, although present, now thinned out between them. The thick, thick haze that had settled over her mind refused to lift.

What was it that she had been repeating in her head? 

_Love you bye love you bye love you bye—_

Finally, she could take in a breath that didn't feel like a gasp. Who would've thought such a banal mantra would be her grounding force?

Gathering her bearings, she watched him retrace his route back to the doorway, and did the same with hers to the cookie batter. Now, with her back to him and a firm grip on the spoon, she let herself put a shaky hand on her chest and feel for her heartbeat.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," he said from behind her, voice receding down the corridor. 

"Love you, bye."

_Oh no._

Marinette squeezed her eyes shut.

Maybe _that_ particular mantra wasn't the best one to use.

Adrien's footsteps back-tracked up the hallway, until she could feel his presence filling the doorframe. Despite facing away, she kept her eyes closed, the spoon digging into the flesh of her palm.

Perhaps if she tried hard enough she could disappear.

"What was that?" he asked.

She swallowed.

What _was_ that?

Realising he could see her white-knuckled grip on the spoon, Marinette scooped up some more cookie batter and smoothed it onto the baking tray. 

"N-nothing," she said, and didn't go for more batter — she didn't want him to know her hands were shaking.

For a while he said nothing, and, finally, left the kitchen doorway and headed to the front door.

The latch clicked open, but didn’t shut again.

Marinette knew he was looking over his shoulder. Looking at _her_.

“Hey,” he said. 

“Uh-huh?”

“I love you, too.”

Marinette dropped the spoon. Batter went flying across the baking tray. He chuckled, she whipped around, and the door was fixed right back on its latch, Adrien nowhere to be seen.

“I told you he was husband material,” her grandmother said across the line.

Marinette closed her eyes, and picked up the phone. “I’ve gotta go. Love you, bye.”

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: maketca  
> tumblr: rosekasa


End file.
